The first time I met Evie Harper, she threw a cream pie in my face. It wasn't really a "meeting" - I just saw her. But it was more like this girl hated everything about me, expressing her opinion on this by throwing a cream pie into the air. Yes, it hit me right in the face.

During our second meeting, at the celebration, I could not even imagine that this beauty in a flowing scarlet dress, the sight of whom took my breath away, was the same “ throw-cream-pie bandit.

I, of course, couldn’t remain indifferent to how Evie looked, so I asked her to dance. In response to this, Miss Harper proudly walked away, having previously called me a scoundrel.

My own Cinderella ran away from me. Chasing her was a bad idea. We weren't right for each other. But I was captivated by her fiery red hair and lively nature. I'm gone. Chicago's most famous playboy has finally fallen head over heels in love. At least it felt like it, because I didn't feel for any other woman what I felt for Evie... She was special...

The problem is that I didn't really trust women. Freud would probably say that my mother was to blame for this. But Evie somehow managed to make me trust her... trust her.

Huge damn mistake!

I hope I don't have to regret this...

But then again, how can someone so unsuitable for me turn out to be so perfect?